A Birthday, a Bridge, and a Creative Conspiracy


My Dear Columbia,

It has been said that adversity introduces a town to itself (at least I've said it), and this summer we have become rather more intimately acquainted than we may have intended. One hoped a 300th birthday would arrive with bunting and brass bands. Instead, the season delivered homicides, tragic accidents, tornadoes and a beloved building that will soon no longer be with us. Not to mention a bridge that appears to be reconsidering its commitment to standing. Quite a lot for one small borough to absorb between Memorial Day and Labor Day.

Your author's nerves are not what they were in June. Then again, neither is the bridge.

And yet, amid catastrophes, one constant endures: the traffic. Precious little has been done about it, unless one counts the collective sighing. Where are we heading? At present, "into the intersection, at speed, without looking." Our motorists treat posted limits as charming suggestions from a bygone age. Our pedestrians drift into the roadway with the serene confidence of the truly distracted, eyes fixed upon phones, as though the crosswalk might text first.

Drivers: slow down. The destination will still be there. Pedestrians: look up. The other side of the street will wait. Attention costs nothing, which in this economy makes it very nearly the only bargain left in town.

But I promised good news, and unlike certain municipal projects, I intend to deliver.

Last week I called Columbia a town of genuine charm wrapped in genuine chaos, and I stand by every syllable. But things are stirring beneath the chaos. New construction is rising about town, and for once the dust in the air is of a productive sort. Better still, an arts community is taking shape, not the wistful kind that exists chiefly in grant applications, but the real article. Switchboard Studios has been quietly laboring at it, and now the Susquehanna River Creative Conspiracy, that splendidly named cabal known to its friends as the SRCC, is at last receiving the recognition it deserves. Any organization willing to call itself a conspiracy in print has my immediate affection. Honesty in branding is so rare.

There is a youthful energy to it all, and I regard youthful energy the way one regards a large dog: alarming at first, delightful once one realizes it means no harm. It is precisely what the town requires. 

So let's be honest, as old friends must. Columbia has clung to certain ideas the way one clings to a hat that no longer fits, out of habit, sentiment, and a vague suspicion that removing it would reveal something unflattering. Those outmoded notions have done us little good. If the young are willing to try something new, and the old are willing to try not objecting, something remarkable may occur. Surely we may permit ourselves to be surprised by something pleasant for a change.

So take heart, my dear fellow Columbians. 300 years is no small accomplishment, even if the anniversary gifts have been peculiar. And for heaven's sake, look both ways.

Yours, ever watchful and only occasionally exasperated,

Your Devoted Correspondent
Cassandra

Popular posts from this blog

Where are you, Columbia? The town is undone and perhaps the problem is us

Image
Dearest Gentle Reader, This author must confess she sat down to pen a lighter message this week: perhaps a bit of tittle-tattle regarding whose hedges need trimming, or which neighbor's dog has escaped to court scandal among the trash cans. Alas, the state of our fair borough will not permit such frivolity. For it seems, Dear Reader, that Columbia — our beloved, history-soaked, pride-drenched Columbia — is coming rather badly undone. Homicides. Assaults. Robberies. Fear and grief hang over our streets like a cloud that refuses to lift. It has taken up residence in our homes. The elders among us murmur that it was not always thus, that in years past such things did not happen, or certainly not to this degree. Whether memory flatters the past, this author cannot say. But the unease is real. As of this posting, killers are still at large. And where is our esteemed Mayor through all of this? One might expect him to address his frightened constituents directly, to post a message, perhap...
Read more

Columbia's troubled week: Gunfire, grief, and a council in retreat

Image
Dearest Gentle Reader , This author returns to her writing desk this week not with a quill dipped in scandal of the romantic variety, but in something considerably more grave, for it seems our fair Borough has, in the span of a few short days, furnished enough drama to fill an entire season. Let us begin, with the matter of the Borough Council, that most dignified assembly of civic gentlemen and gentlewomen who convene each fortnight to debate ordinances and whether the chambers can withstand the weight of an engaged citizenry.  The Council meeting scheduled for the 7th of July was postponed, on account of an expected crush of attendees so numerous that the modest chambers could not properly accommodate them. One is given to understand that a great many of these eager souls intended to voice their opinions — rather loudly, one presumes — on the matter of a certain proposed data center.  The Borough was caught rather flat-footed by the scale of public interest. One might say th...
Read more

The e-riders have arrived: largely unannounced and unlicensed (plus a special P.S.!)

Image
  Before we begin, Gentle Reader, we must express our profound sadness for those residents who just lost everything in Saturday's fire. Please consider donating to the several fundraising programs on the internet to help them. We must also convey our sincere and heartfelt admiration to the many firefighters who risked their lives and their health in extinguishing the blaze. Their courage and dedication are beyond measure.  Now, on to the topic at hand . . . Dearest Gentle Reader, Your faithful correspondent has witnessed many a spectacle in her time amongst the citizenry of our fair Columbia — the breathless social gambits, the whispered intrigues, the occasional scandals. Yet, nothing has so thoroughly upset her nerves, her composure, and her very will to cross the street, as the plague that has descended upon our beloved thoroughfares in the form of the electric bicycle and its even more audacious cousin, the electric scooter. They arrive without warning. They depart without...
Read more